


Moral of the Story

by gemgirl28



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, But the idea popped in my head and wouldnt let me sleep, Canon Compliant, F/M, I wouldnt read this but I wrote it, Not A Happy Ending, One Shot, Pain, Post-Canon, angst and pain, im really sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemgirl28/pseuds/gemgirl28
Summary: Iroh let's a secret slip at Zuko's engagement party and Katara can't deal with it.“How drunk is your uncle?” she finally asks, opening her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. Zuko frowns and raises his arms to reach for her, but he catches himself and instead scratches the back of his neck. Katara feels a concoction of both gratitude and disappointment.“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him in the last hour or so, but I know he was enjoying the arctic wine your father sent. Why,” he asks, the concern bleeding into panic. “Did something happen? What did he say?” Katara’s jaw clenches as she swallows, debating one last time if she should drop it, but then she opens her mouth and the words spill out anyway.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Zuko/Original Character
Comments: 24
Kudos: 59





	Moral of the Story

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I am a DIEHARD Zutara shipper, and a month ago I swore I would only write Zutara endgame fics because we didn't get our happy ending with canon, so screw it I would do it myself. But then this idea popped into my head and wouldn't let me sleep, so I wrote it. And honestly? I'm glad I did. I've been dealing with some family drama the past couple of months, and this was a way for me to release some angst without potentially damaging an already fragile relationship. So anyways, if angst is your thing, I hope you enjoy this. If it's not, as penance for my Zutara endgame sins, I am posting a smutty oneshot (Marvelous Night for a Moondance) and a steambaby fluffy oneshot (Just the two of us) right after this, so go check those out!
> 
> Shoutout again to @hereforthezutarastuff on tumblr for beta reading! You rock!

The last thing Katara needs is a fainting spell in front of all these people. She peers into the crowd and confirms the presence of almost every important figure she had interacted with in the past six years, all here to celebrate that Fire Lord’s engagement to a Fire Nation noblewoman. Without some fresh air soon, Katara knows she will pass out.

She races through the ballroom, trying to keep to the edges to avoid getting stopped by this noble or that dignitary. She does her best to ignore the looks she receives from the nobility as she half-runs towards the nearest balcony. Thankfully, it appears empty, and as she presses up to the railing, barely keeping herself from collapsing, she can finally breath again.

The air’s heat stifles out here as well, but it’s heavy with the weight of her element. The stuffy ballroom fil overwhelms her with false hopes and meaningless well wishes. She closes her eyes, inhaling the scent of the fire lilies and fresh cut grass from the gardens, and feels the oncoming panic attack start to subside. That is, until _he_ speaks up.

“Katara? Are you ok?” he says, concern clear in his tone. She jumps, placing a hand over her heart as she turns to face him.

“What are you doing out here, Zuko?” she asks, ignoring his question. He smiles a little at her and steps towards her.

“Probably the same thing you are, trying to get some fresh air before I have to play nice with dignitaries again,” he chuckles a little at his own answer, but when he notices Katara’s frown, still closed off from him, he sobers. “Katara? What’s wrong?” he asks, concern edging back into his voice.

She closes her eyes and debates her options. She refuses to put words to the feelings running wild in her heart. Her plan, gather fresh air until her head stopped spinning then return to pretending like always, seems flawless on the surface. Of course, he shows up. Of course, he’s concerned. Now, she fights to keep the truth withheld but can’t keep herself from opening up to him

“How drunk is your uncle?” she finally asks, opening her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. Zuko frowns and raises his arms to reach for her, but he catches himself and instead scratches the back of his neck. Katara feels a concoction of both gratitude and disappointment.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him in the last hour or so, but I know he was enjoying the arctic wine your father sent. Why,” he asks, the concern bleeding into panic. “Did something happen? What did he say?” Katara’s jaw clenches as she swallows, debating one last time if she should drop it, but then she opens her mouth and the words spill out anyway.

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” she mumbles, before clearing her throat. “He asked me why I wasn’t the one marrying you. He said he always thought we would end up together,” she manages in a surprisingly level tone, given that she feels like she might shatter into a million pieces.

Zuko swears softly under his breath and reaches for the balcony railing with one hand. She can see his already pale knuckles turning white from squeezing so hard. He tries opening and closing his mouth a few times as if to refute it, to try and defend himself, but nothing comes out. It’s all the answer she really needs, but her already broken heart takes control of her mouth. She feels rather than hears herself speaking without abandon.

“Why would he say something like that Zuko?” she whispers, but she knows he hears her. The question hangs between them, heavy like the humidity surrounding them, and she watches as a million emotions flash over his face. After a few moments, his features settle into what she recognizes as his Fire Lord mask. When he speaks though, his voice is wrecked with emotion.

“I thought you knew,” he rasps out, and she closes her eyes again because it’s too much. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry,” he weakly offers, and she squeezes her eyes to try, in vain, to keep the welling tears from sliding down her face.

“Is that why you weren’t at my wedding?” she accuses, and she hears the hesitation, knowing the answer before he speaks.

“Not technically. I really did have a situation with the New Ozai Society. I just…. Took my time making sure there were no loose ends. I couldn’t- I’m sorry, I couldn’t watch you-”

“Marry your best friend?” she cuts him off, only opening her eyes long enough to see him give a small nod before squeezing them shut again.

“Tell me you didn’t know,” she whispers, and she hates how broken she sounds.

“What?” he asks, and her eyes fly open.

“Tell. Me. You. Did. Not. Know,” she orders through gritted teeth, and his Fire Lord mask slips.

“Katara, what are you talking about?” he asks, frustration starting to overtake the panic in his tone. She wants to look away, needs to look away, but she is held by his eyes, his damn beautiful golden eyes. She keeps his gaze as she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself a little.

“Tell me you didn’t know how I feel about you,” she chokes out, having lost the battle with her grief. She sees an array of emotion flit across his features, a mix of confusion and regrettable hope, before settling to a despair so solemn it breaks her heart all over again.

“I thought- you never said…. But Aang-” he attempts to form a coherent sentence. She shakes her head, one hand reaching up to wipe at the tears streaming down her face.

“I thought you knew. I mean, most fourteen-year-old girls don’t have the gift of subtlety, and I certainly wasn’t subtle. And I didn’t think you felt the same way. I mean, after the Agni Kai… I spent all of our healing sessions working up the nerve to say something, to bring it up, and I promised myself I would before your coronation. But then Sokka needed his pants mended, and Aang needed help with his ceremonial robes, and then by the time I got to you it was too late. Mai was already there,” she confesses. She’s surprised at how easily the words tumble from her lips, words she thought she’d never speak after bottling them for six years. Zuko, for his part, somehow pales even more, and she’s concerned he’s going to break the balcony railing with the tightness of his grip.

“I didn’t know you saw that,” he whispers, “I was planning on talking to you in Ba Sing Se. As much as I hoped you… felt that way, I couldn’t really believe you would. I just wanted to tell you once, just once how I felt, but then you and Aang- on the balcony-” he cuts himself off, and she thinks she hears him swear under his breath again.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you.” Her words leave her faster than she can think them. “I wasn’t planning on telling you any of this, but then your uncle had to ask me that and then you were out here concerned about me and I just feel so awful for bringing this up at your _engagement party._ Not to mention, Aang could walk out at any moment, and Spirits I wish I could drink,” she says all in one breath. Her eyes widen as she plays back her last sentence. No one is supposed to know yet, she hasn’t even told Aang, and she prays Zuko doesn’t pick up on it.

The Spirits have no mercy for her tonight. His eyes widen slightly and his jaw drops in shock.

“Katara are you- are you pregnant?” he whispers. Though she can’t stand the pain in his eyes, she can’t look away. She slowly nods, and he takes in a sharp breath, turning to face the garden and clutching the railing with his death grip in both hands now.

“Aang doesn’t know yet,” she whispers, “I was trying to wait another week, to make sure there are no complications,” and the rest of the sentence, _no complications this time,_ hangs between them as if she had said it out loud. She doesn’t need to say it though. She knows he remembers her tears, her breakdown, just six months ago, not long after her and Aang’s wedding. Aang had left to work out some dispute in one of the former colonies, and she had been visiting Zuko to discuss work on a hospital in Republic City.

In Aang’s absence, Zuko had been the one to hold her as she broke, to wipe the endless tears, to carry her gently to bed when she finally cried herself out. She convinced herself at the time that he would have done that for any of his friends, for Suki or Toph or Ty Lee. Now, knowing how Zuko feels, or felt, makes that lie glaringly obvious.

“I guess I should be congratulating you,” he finally says with a heavy sigh, and she finds a little giggle bursts out of her at the irony.

“I’m supposed to be congratulating you on your engagement, and here I am making a mess,” she answers the question written in his raised eyebrow. He offers her a small nod before dropping his forehead to the railing in between his hands.

If his hair wasn’t secured by his crown, she knows it would be standing up at odd points, ruffled by his hands pulling through it in frustration. As it is, she has to clench her own hands where they hug her waist to keep from reaching out and smoothing the tension from his forehead, to keep from scratching her nails against his scalp the way she knows will have the stress melting from his shoulders. That’s not her place anymore.

It never was, really.

Behind her, she can hear the music drifting through the doors, and maybe she can hear conversations and singing and laughter drift through the heavy air too. On the balcony, however, it feels nauseatingly silent between them, and the discomfort stretches on. She almost turns to go back inside a dozen times before he straightens and speaks up again.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I wish I had known-” but she cuts him off.

“Wishing to change the past won’t change our future,” she says, sounding surer than she feels, but she’s had six years of pretending everything is fine. What’s another lifetime?

“Still, I’m sorry. And I’m really sorry Uncle was so careless. I think I’m going to make him pay him before tonight is over,” he says, the anger in his tone building with each word.

“Don’t do that, it isn’t his fault we were both too scared to say anything,” she reasons, even though the swirling storm of painful emotions in her mind hasn’t slowed a bit.

“I suppose you’re right,” he admits.

She can’t help the automatic response that bursts out of her, teasing tone and all, “I usually am.”

He turns back around to face her and gives her A Look, one that she knows from experience means if she was anyone but one of his best friends, he’d have kicked her off the balcony already.

After a moment though, the Look fades, replaced by sorrow and brokenness. “So, what happens now?” he quietly asks, as if afraid of the response.

She closes her eyes again as she answers. “Nothing changes, Zuko. I’m still married to Aang, and in seven months we’ll have a baby. You’re still going to marry Sakura in a year. Aang and I will be there, and we are still going to do our part to continue to keep the peace,” she says. She almost breaks again at the reminder of his coronation speech, _of love and peace_ , but holds herself up despite the throbbing ache in her heart.

When she finally opens her eyes, Zuko is staring at her in that way that has always felt like he’s staring through her, like he can see every inch of her soul. Now she realizes maybe she gave him too much credit.

“And if that weren’t the case? If you could snap your fingers and change the world, where would you be?”

 _With you,_ she screams in her head, but instead shakes her head.

“Zuko, this game of coulda, shoulda, woulda isn’t good for us,” she tries to keep her chin up, tries to appear confident and collected and sure of herself.

She almost fools herself for a moment.

He studies her for a few minutes longer before releasing a heavy sigh. “Fine,” he admits, “I’ll head back into that ballroom and pretend this conversation never happened if that’s what you want.” She gives a small nod. “But please, first, I just ask one thing,” he begs, and it’s always the please that gets her. Who else does the Fire Lord say please to?

“Anything,” she whispers, knowing that is a lofty promise.

“Just once, will you say it?”

Part of her wants to take it back, to turn and laugh and run away, to find Aang and dance the night away and forget all of this awful, painful conversation. She’s afraid of what will happen when she bares the part of her soul she is an expert at hiding. However, she will say it because he asked, and there really isn’t much she can deny him.

Still, if she’s going to do this, she doesn’t want it to be one sided. She will live the rest of her life holding onto this moment, this one time she chooses for herself and no one else. She mentally braces herself, glances over her shoulder to make sure no one is lingering that could overhear, and reaches out for him, cupping his face like she did all those years ago.

“Only if you say it back,” she says, and he nods, but surprises her by taking the lead.

“I love you, Katara,” and it’s simultaneously the best and the worst thing she’s ever heard. She almost turns and runs again, but he asked. He said please. She gathers her courage.

“I love you, Zuko,” she breathes, and she feels a weight lift from her shoulders only to slam back down twice as hard. He looks like he might kiss her, but she’s already pushed her luck enough for the night. Instead, she pulls back her hand and heads back into the party without another word.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

She doesn’t watch Zuko on his wedding day. She can’t bring herself to witness him promise to love and cherish and _honor_ someone else. Bumi squirms in her arms and she is thankful for his presence. He grounds her, keeps her from floating away simply by existing in her arms.

Instead, Katara watches Sakura, the woman the Fire Nation Council chose for Zuko, as she smiles up at him and says her vows. Katara’s crying, and she hopes that if anyone bothers to notice it would appear as if she is crying tears of joy for her friend on his special day.

Only the Spirits know the ugly truth of her jealous tears, and she swears it will remain that way until her dying breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Again I'm sorry! If you are mad please accept Marvelous Night for a Moondance (If you are 18+ and enjoy smut) or Just the Two of us (if you like steambaby fluff) as penance! Also come say hi on tumblr @gemgirl28


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